


Raise A Glass To Freedom

by sian_jpg



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phanfiction, Warning: Sap, a not so subtle commentary on 2017 phan, angst if you squint, because if gamingmas is anything to go by, existential thoughts???, here's to 2017, let's just say i'm looking forward to the rebrand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:33:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9168577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian_jpg/pseuds/sian_jpg
Summary: “Let’s just toast to something, okay?” Phil says, raising his glass and prompting Dan to say something eloquent or profound about a new era.or, the inevitability of the rebrand - and what's sure to come with leaving the gold hats and jackets behind as dan and phil ring in 2017.(title because i'm hamilton trash)





	

Dan almost forgets to tweet. Almost.

For seven and a half minutes, it’s almost like he’s not a supposedly semi-famous internet person with a devout 4.5 million followers refreshing their twitter page, expecting some kind of generic life philosophy on how 2017 will be better in 140 characters or less. 

He can just be himself, for seven and a half minutes. Exactly the same and somehow also completely different from when he started rambling to a camera in 2009, and only one person was bothering to listen.

He almost likes it.

He has – they have – been toying with the newly tangible possibility of just disappearing from social media altogether for a while now; just for a few days. Just in the place of a string of three blank squares on an Instagram feed, somehow universally recognised as symbolising a new era. The inevitability of the passing of time into a new year seems like the best place for a fresh start, the inevitability of the “rebrand” just as ominously looming over them, the inevitability of broken resolutions and porcelain promises as fireworks erupt around the world.

It’s only natural for them to begin again here. 

But how to begin again? With something simple and small, barely noticeable at first – the gradual process of phasing lions and llamas, snokoplasm and placentas out, of letting go who they were three, five, seven years ago and showing who they are now. No longer lovesick, young, so very self-conscious and uncertain – not that they aren’t uncertain now, of course, but Dan learnt long ago and far too late that he didn’t have to fear the unknown, just embrace it.

Not that it doesn’t make it any less terrifying, he supposes, but finding the person you’re sure you can face just about anything with helps a lot.

He’s pretty sure after seventy-nine TATINOF shows he doesn’t fear much anymore, anyway. 

The weight of a clean slate, of reintroductions and rebranding, of leaving so much behind with the gold jackets and hats, is a terrifying unknown. They decide it has to be a gradual process, of course, for both the internet’s sake and theirs. As much as they look forward to the freedom of the future, of being able to share a smile, a laugh, a kiss without hesitation, they’re not ready for the car crash that will be the consequences just yet. A point of no return.

And yet, Dan almost tweets the last selfie he took of them, Phil’s arms around his waist, their foreheads touching and matching fond smiles on their faces as the clock strikes midnight on the TV behind them and they lean in to kiss. He so badly aches to, to just leave it there with no context or caption. Just the newly tangible possibility of them – without the ambiguity or uncertainty that frames every time they’ve made eye contact on camera. Without the very same ambiguity that fuels the branding they both so desperately want to leave behind. 

There’s a moment where he thinks he might actually do it, the champagne taking a small influence, despite there being no way back from the place Dan would rocket them to in doing so. His finger hovers over the “Tweet” button, aware only of the strange ringing in his ears, and the beat in his chest, and-

And then he thinks better of it tonight, discarding the draft, knowing that instantly drowning their current branding in gasoline with one photo is enough to set them both blazing and half the internet alight. Dan might post it one day, maybe one day soon, maybe in the monotony of a Wednesday afternoon when no-one’s really looking, just to see if anyone was really surprised.

Maybe in this year, maybe in the next.

He supposes, in a quiet moment, it’s just as inevitable as them.

But both Dan and the internet aren’t quite ready for the inevability of that day means, and what it will come to mean in the aftermath, not quite yet. So, for now, he leaves it at a half-hearted attempt at indifferent existential humour, the absence of any sentiment or poignancy glaringly obvious in the gaps between the words. 

(To be fair, how can he describe what 2017 will hold for them when he doesn’t even know himself? The last three years of both their lives have been laid out in front of them down to the last detail, their futures ever since “the talk” in 2014 mapped out between their feet and heavily intertwined. He has every right to fear the unknown.)

However much the world – Dan included – is glad to say goodbye to 2016, he finds it slipping through his fingers. He tries to reach out and slow the seconds only to helplessly watch them crumble to dust at his touch and god, considering time is an illusion it sure as hell knows how to fuck with him because 2017 means twenty-six and thirty and eight years since a train station platform in Manchester. How can he even begin to deal with what that means?

And now he’s stalling for time, just an excuse for a moment alone, having excused himself from the company (and, reluctantly, the dog) and finding himself in an unfamiliar spare room. The nine minutes since midnight, the first nine minutes of 2017 in which he didn’t tweet will be probably be overanalysed and scrutinised by many. However much he tries, he can’t find it in himself to care. Not tonight. He turns his phone off and collapses onto the bed, sprawling across the duvet.

Which is, of course, in the exact moment Phil almost trips into the room, holding a tall glass of champagne in either hand. Dan doesn’t even need to look at him to see the bemused, lopsided grin on his face as he settles down next to him.

“Trying to think of a New Year tweet?”  
“Got one, although it took me way too long. Now they’ll think I was too busy making out with you to pay attention to the fact it had been 2017 for eight minutes.”

Phil scoffs, raising an eyebrow as Dan sits up, adjusting his fringe and accepting the champagne glass graciously.

“That’s ridiculous. We were only making out for like, five minutes at most.” Dan nearly chokes from laughing with bubbles riding down his throat at that, which in turn sets Phil off laughing at the fizz dripping from his chin. 

“Wow. Who decided we were responsible adults again?” Dan asks rhetorically.  
“No idea – but god, no talk about responsibilities please – not tonight.” 

_Thirty_ echoes ominously in the back of Dan’s mind again, and he takes a moment to consider what it must sound like in Phil’s.

“What do you want to talk about instead then?”  
“Let’s just toast to something, okay?” Phil says, raising his glass and prompting Dan to say something eloquent or profound about a new era. 

“Okay. To...erm...to honesty. And less editing out all the bits where we have sex.”  
“Really?”  
“What? I said less!”  
“Dan, you’re ruining the moment.”  
“Okay, okay. To honesty, integrity and freedom in 2017.”

They clink their glasses together and Phil presses a soft kiss to his forehead, taking a sip before taking Dan by the hand and leading him back out of the spare room.

“C’mon – let’s go act like sociable people.”  
“Do we have to? There’s a bed here, y’know. Doesn’t look like anyone’s using it, and it’s only fair, seeing as I haven’t gotten laid since like, last yea-“  
“-Shut up!” Phil laughs, shaking his head as he gives Dan a fond smile. They take in this moment, one of the moments regularly captured and so rarely uploaded. 

It’s going to be a gradual process. It has to be – but, however terrifying that thought may be, they’ll get there one day. It’s inevitable; and both terrifying and exhilarating all at once. When Dan can tweet that photo or something like it with no context or caption necessary. 

Maybe in this year, maybe in the next - but that day will come, he knows it. 

Dan can’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! happy new year and i hope you have a good 2017 <3  
> i know i'm not the most active of writers lmao but i'm hoping to be better this year - so if this is your first fic you've read of mine, thanks for reading, and if it isn't, thanks for sticking around!!!  
> \- sian ^-^


End file.
